


When You're Sleeping

by Ailyn



Category: GOT7
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5798485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailyn/pseuds/Ailyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark should be asleep. He really should. His life is exhausting as it is, even with enough sleep. But his thoughts can't help but wander to his best friend, sleeping on the other side of the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Night

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is actually a bit of a mess, since it was the first English fanfiction I have ever written, and the first one about real people, too.  
> I have thought about editing it before posting it here, or changing the way I divided the chapters, but I kinda love it the way it is, so that's what you get.  
> I hope it will still get some love here.

Mark loved what he was doing. He really did. It was more than his job, it was his passion, his life.

Be it performing on stage, fan contact, promoting, spending endless hours in the recording room and even more hours training, practicing their dances over and over and over again, falling into bed at night exhausted and spent, but happy. Happy. He loved everything about it. Living together with his band members, his best friends. Giving concerts. He even loved the days and hours of almost panic before a comeback, before they knew whether their new song would be a success or ruin their careers.

And even if sometimes he wished to have more time to sleep, a little time for himself, to do whatever he wanted to do at the moment, or when he got annoyed at having to perform the same song over and over again for their comeback, the second when he was rapping, dancing or doing a flip, he forgot all about it and just enjoyed with all his heart that he was able to do what he had dreamt of for so long for a living.

But still, there were moments when he just couldn’t help hating what it did to them. Not for himself, no, he was fine with the way things were. He always had been a very balanced and grounded person.

He hated it on behalf of the others. For Youngjae, when they came home after a long day of training where he had been yelled at for not getting the choreography right on the second, third or even fifth try, and he went to bed early, telling them, with a weak smile, how tired he was and that he just needed some sleep, but they all knew he just didn’t want them to see him crying. For JB, when the responsibility that came with being a leader put so much pressure on him that he had a hard time keeping himself from snapping at anyone who talked to him but he still tried his best to be there for every single one of them.

For Jackson who had the fullest and most demanding schedule out of all of them. Jackson who was always the first to be up in the morning and the last to come home at night. Jackson who had been getting more and more quiet over the last couple of months, whose once always present smile had been getting rare until it almost disappeared completely, only showing itself when he was directly faced with a camera, recording for one of his many shows or Real Got7. He had been getting paler, too, the bones of his face sharper and more pronounced. Mark was not sure how much of that last part had to do with Jackson’s hairstyle, the platinum blond making him seem older, more grown up. But he had been blond for a while now, since the promoting cycle for “Just right”, and he had been fine back then. Exhausted, yes, but promoting periods had always been hard on Jackson. This time was different. He had taken to styling his hair back lately, the sides of his head shaved, the hairstyle more fitting for their current concept than the tousled, soft mop of hair he had had before, and it suited him. He looked good. But at the same time – was it the hair that made his cheekbones seem so sharp and delicate, the shadows under his eyes so dark, or the stress he was under?

Mark remembered when he first got to know the other, Jackson had always been smiling, laughing, making stupid jokes. He had been so loud and energetic all the time that Mark had wanted to strangle him sometimes, hit him over the head and knock him out, just to get a few hours of peace, or just suffocate him and be done with it. But at the same time he couldn’t deny that he had always been grateful for Jackson’s presence, the energy he brought to the group, the way he always tried his best to make the other group members feel better, how he could cheer all of them up with his stupid, high pitched laugh.

A laugh Mark had barely heard for weeks. He missed it so much.

The worst of all was that Mark felt so, so helpless. There was nothing he could do for Jackson who had become so much more distant lately. In the past, when things were rough, he had always felt like he was at least able to give some measure of comfort to his fellow rapper. When Jackson seemed completely done with everything, he had come to Mark who had never hesitated to give the younger a hug, sometimes staying like that for minutes and minutes, Jackson’s head on Mark’s shoulder, until Jackson’s breathing was slow and steady, so tired he had to fight to keep his eyes open.

Mark could not remember the last time Jackson had come to him for something as simple as that. Actually, he couldn’t recall the last time the two of them had been alone together except for the nights in their room, sleeping, and even in front of the cameras, they had been more distant, touching less, Jackson doing fan service with Junior rather than him. When had that happened?

Markson had always been a fan favorite, the times they had taken over ASC for the so-called “Markson show” had proven that. The last time they had done that was shortly before they started promoting “Just right” and even back then… Mark remembered Jackson being less hyper, less bent on initiating contact between the two, always staying a few inches more away than before. Mark hadn’t known how to react to that, so used to Jackson taking the lead in those situations. It had been awkward, actually. Their relationship had never been awkward before.

Had it really been that long?

 

Mark turned over, opening his eyes. It was dark, only a few strands of moonlight able to get past the drawn curtains of their dorm room. Still, he had no problem making out the platinum blond head on the bed on the other side of the room.

He had been lying awake for hours, restless, trying to sleep, but sleep had not come. Instead, he had been thinking about Jackson, getting more uneasy by the minute. Biting his lip, Mark slipped out from under his blankets, trying to not make any noise. Jackson didn’t get enough sleep as it was, he didn’t want to be the reason his roommate woke up in the middle of the night. Quietly, he made his way over to the other bed, crouching in front of his friend’s bed.

A few strands of almost white hair fell over his face, but they could not hide the deep circles under Jackson’s eyes, so dark they almost looked painted on, that remained even in sleep. Still, Jackson seemed different asleep. The hard lines in his face softer, making him look younger, even peaceful. Unguarded.

Mark could remember Jackson looking like that even when he was awake, years ago in front of everyone, later at least in front of him. But not in the past few months.  
The oldest member of Got7 could not suppress the soft sigh that came out of his mouth. He ruffled his hair with one head, closing his eyes. What the hell was he doing, watching Jackson sleep at 3 a.m.? He was supposed to sleep himself, rest, they had a tiring day ahead of them, and he owed it to the others to be at his best, always trying his hardest for the group. Instead, he kneeled in front of his sleeping best friend. Or were they? Best friends? It hadn’t seemed like it in the past weeks, even months.

The grip in his hair tightened. There he went again, worrying instead of being sensible and just going to sleep. He was probably stressing over nothing. Jackson was just under a lot of pressure. He’d come around.

“Mark?”

The sudden voice breaking the silence made Mark jump and lose his balance. With none of his usual athletic grace, he fell back, landing on his butt with an audible thud.  
Jackson had opened his eyes, black in the sparse light, and looked at him, frowning. With one hand, he pushed the hair that Mark had just found so endearing out of his face. “What are you doing?” Jackson’s deep voice was rough from sleep, even more so than when he was rapping.

Mark could feel goose bumps raising on his arms and had to suppress a shiver. “N-nothing,” he answered, clearing his throat. “I woke up and wanted to make sure you were sleeping well.”

Jackson raised one eyebrow, disbelief clear on his face. “I’m sure my snoring was enough proof of that. You didn’t have to hover in front of my face like a creep.”

“You don’t snore,” Mark mumbled, feeling heat rise in his face.

“You’ve been telling me otherwise for years now,” Jackson retorted. “Out with it, what’s going on?”

Mark bit his lip and looked away. “I couldn’t sleep,” he confessed, embarrassed. “And… I’m worried about you.”

Jackson sighed and let his head fall back on his pillow, yawning. “Don’t be. I’m fine. Why are you worried, anyway?” Already, his eyes were threatening to fall shut again. Damn, he needed to sleep more. When had his last day off been? He couldn’t remember. Not a good sign.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Mark answered quietly. “I’m scared that you’ll just collapse one day. And…” He hesitated, breaking off.

Jackson groaned and opened his eyes again. “Mark, I’m too tired for this crap. Just tell me.”

“You’ve been distant lately,” Mark whispered, barely audible. “I was wondering if I had done something to drive you away.” The next moment, he wanted to slap himself. How pathetic was he, really? For some reason, he felt tears rising in his eyes. Crying, was he now? What the fuck was wrong with him? Swallowing, he fought the tears back, but the hot, uncomfortable feeling didn’t leave. “Sorry,” he mumbled, getting up from the cold ground he’d been sitting on. “It’s nothing. I just had a bad day.”

He was already turning away when Jackson sighed – again – and stopped him. “Wait.” He lifted one corner of his blanket in a clear invitation. “Get in.”

Mark stared at him, astonished. “What?”

“You heard me. Get in. You’re worried about me, so much it’s costing you sleep, right? Well, I’m right here and I’m fine. So get in so we can both get some rest.” His voice sounded like he was already half asleep again. “And don’t creep around in front of my bed again, seriously. Nearly gave me a heart attack seeing you directly in front of me when I opened my eyes.”

Mark could feel his blush returning. “I’m not a creep,” he murmured in protest, but Jackson ignored him.

“In. Now.”

The older rapper gave himself a mental push and followed the order, slipping in under the warm blankets, before lying there awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, arms, legs or any other body part.

“Finally.” The younger’s voice was barely a sigh, his eyes already closed and drifting off to sleep. “Just relax,” were his last words before his breathing steadied again.

Mark on the other hand didn’t have such an easy time going to sleep. Why, exactly, had he ended up lying in Jackson’s bed? How was that supposed to help him sleep?

Still, he had to admit there was something comforting in the slow, even breaths next to him and the heat the other body emitted. And it definitely showed Jackson did not have a problem with having Mark near him. He really had made a fool out of himself, hadn’t he? Slowly, he turned to his side, trying not to rustle the bed too much. Jackson’s face was directly in front of his own, white in the moonlight. His eyelids seemed nearly translucent, his lips slightly parted. He was beautiful, actually.

“You’re staring again,” Jackson stated dryly, without even opening his eyes.

Mark flinched. He hadn’t expected the younger to still be awake. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Go to sleep. You need it.”

“Yeah, well, that’s hard to do when I feel you practically burning holes into my face with that stare of yours.” Finally, he opened his eyes again which seemed so much darker in contrast to his pale hair and skin. Like deep holes Mark could fall into. “Anything I can do to help you fall asleep?” Jackson asked softly.

Mark hesitated, his thoughts wandering back to the memories he had gone through earlier. “Can I… hug you?” he asked, uncertainty in his voice. Honestly, those hugs always had comforted Mark just as much as they had Jackson.

“Whatever,” the younger rapper agreed. “C’mere.”

Slowly, Mark shifted closer to Jackson’s body, frowning at himself when he felt his heart speed up. What the hell? He didn’t know what was happening to him anymore.

When he got close enough, Jackson slung an arm around his waist, pulling him closer until they were right next to each other, Marks head on Jackson’s arm, their foreheads touching. Those dark eyes were already closed again. “Now sleep,” Jackson grumbled.

Mark felt a smile tugging at his lips. Jackson still was the same. Going out of his way to make the others feel better, all the while acting like it was nothing.

Carefully, he placed one arm around Jackson’s waist, returning the embrace, and closed his eyes. For the first time this night, he felt at peace enough to consider sleep.

 

Mark woke up to the unfamiliar feeling of foreign arms around him, another body pressed to his. Opening his eyes, he blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision and identify what it was he was seeing, only inches from his face. And then he blushed a deep, crimson red, as he remembered what he saw, where he was and how he had ended up there.

Jackson was still deeply asleep, his every breath brushing over Mark’s cheek and ear. Of course he was. Mark had been tired, that was true, but Jackson had to be _exhausted_. And then Mark had woken him up from his well-deserved sleep in the middle of the night for basically no reason, kept him awake for about half an hour, and then taken up half the space in his bed.

Mark felt mortified.

Seriously, what had been wrong with him last night? Mark bit his lip, remembering the weird, panicky feeling in his stomach that thinking about the distant way Jackson had been acting had caused. The feeling had eased, somewhat, but he felt like it was still there at the edges of his mind, in his fingertips and the tips of his toes, waiting to come back.

Across from him, Jackson sighed and muttered something in his sleep, simultaneously tightening his grip on Mark, pulling him closer.

Good thing his blush hadn’t yet vanished: It would have been a wasted effort, since it returned in full force when Mark felt Jackson’s body pressed that close to him. They were touching from their knees up to their shoulders, Jackson’s head resting against Marks shoulder.

Still, he tried not to move, not wanting to wake Jackson from his much needed rest – again. And, if he was completely honest… It didn’t feel bad. Not at all. Though he did ask himself how they would explain this situation when someone came to wake them up.

Again, Mark found himself studying the lines of Jackson’s face, or what he could see of it, snuggled into his shoulder the way it was. The dark circles beneath his eyes seemed to have gotten a bit lighter, thankfully. Carefully, Mark raised a hand and brushed a few pieces of hair out of Jackson’s face, his touch light as a feather. _Beautiful_ , his thought of last night returned. Jackson was beautiful.

And then, when Jackson’s eyes fluttered open, black against his white skin, and he returned Mark’s gaze with sleep still in his eyes, Mark considered for the first time the possibility that he might be in love with his best friend.


	2. Second Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I first wrote this fic, the first chapter was supposed to stay a oneshot. I changed my mind pretty soon but if you want to leave it like that, you don't have to read the rest, it can stand alone.  
> "Thank you" to everyone who has read this so far, I'll try to upload the rest of this fic over the next few days.

They spent a few seconds just staring at each other before Mark pulled away abruptly. There was no use in staying still as to not wake the younger when he was already awake, was there?

And no, it had nothing to do with the way his heart seemed to be beating a little too hard, too fast in his chest.

“Morning,” Jackson said when Mark had left his bed but not yet had time to flee the room. “Slept better?”

Mark turned around, a little smile on his lips. It wasn’t even forced but honest and genuine – to his own surprise. “I have, actually. Sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jackson yawned, loudly.

“Maybe you should sleep until your manager shows up to wake you up,” Mark suggested, worry creeping back into his voice as he took in the other’s pale face. “You can’t possibly be well-rested yet.”

“Naw, I’m fine,” Jackson answered. He didn’t sound fine, though. He sounded tired.

Mark couldn’t help himself – he rolled his eyes at the younger rapper. “Maybe I wouldn’t worry so much about you if you took better care of yourself,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, about that.” Suddenly, Jackson’s voice was awake and sharp. “Wanna talk about last night? That was pretty weird, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Mark was making his way to the door of their room. Hell no, he didn’t want to talk about last night. He wasn’t even sure what was going on with him, and he sure was not ready to talk to Jackson about it. Beautiful Jackson who he might be in love with. Jackson who had been so distant in the last months. “Sorry. Won’t happen again.” He risked a quick glance back when he opened the door.

Jackson was still in his bed, sitting, his weight leaning back on his arms. His hair, unstyled, framed his face, making it look a little softer than usual. His dark eyes, on the other hand, were piercing. “Whatever,” he said, finally, allowing himself to fall back into his soft pillows. Not like he could force Mark to talk to him. He had never been able to, usually just ending up blabbering to himself while Mark sat next to him listening. Always listening.

Mark’s thoughts, however, dwelled on a completely different memory. A memory of last night. “Whatever,” was what Jackson had said when agreeing to the hug Mark had requested in his state of confusion.

Mark blushed, hard. And left the room, not looking back.

 

He hardly saw Jackson during the next few days, both of them busy doing different things, Jackson returning to the dorm late at night, when the others had already gone to bed, und leaving before dawn, before any of the others had even stirred in their sleep.

Still, Jackson seemed fine, judging from the glimpses Mark caught of various TV shows and interviews. Not at the verge of collapsing, at least, and always with that glint of determination in his eyes that Mark knew so well. The glint that said “No matter what you throw at me, I will climb to the top. Come at me.”

Jackson had always shown that unshakeable determination. Working on his rapping. Working on his dancing. Working on his Korean, on his English, on his conversational skills, on his stage presence. Only his natural charisma, he never had had to work on. That had just been there from day one, making it impossible to hate him even for the most determined opponent.

There is always a special kind of relationship between trainees of the same company. A mixture of friendliness, friendship even, and stone-cold rivalry. Sure, they tended to be of similar age, have similar interests, similar dreams, making it easy to be friends. But at the same time, they were all hoping to achieve the same goal – being chosen for a group and debuting. So, when you saw someone who has spent every hour of every day with you for years achieve something truly amazing, surpassing you – what do you do? Be happy for him, congratulate him? Or hate him for lessening your own chances?

That problem had never existed with Jackson. He had always had this easy, friendly charm, and when he congratulated someone, he meant it, and one could see it in his eyes. However, that didn’t mean he acknowledged the other to be better than him, giving up, it simply meant he would work harder and harder to be at the top. It made others want to cheer for him as well.

Mark had always respected Jackson for that quality, and now he could see him on TV screens, with the same expression in his eyes.

Wasn’t it ironic, Mark wondered, that the whole world seemed to see more of his friend and bandmate than he did, these days?

When Mark lay in bed at night, Jackson’s bed still empty, he always fell asleep to the same memory, of Jackson pulling him into his arms, their foreheads resting against each other.

Other than that, however, nothing had changed. The few times they saw each other, at practice or a performance – never alone, of course – Jackson did not treat him any differently than before that night. Touching enough to satisfy the fans, being friendly enough to not be called rude, but nothing more. And why should it be different, really? After all, it wasn’t Jackson who was still confused about his reaction to the other, not Jackson who couldn’t get those memories out of head, not Jackson who missed the other like a plant missed the sun. It was Mark.

Mark who had none of Jackson’s easygoing friendliness and didn’t know what to do about it.

 

When Mark woke up and opened his eyes, there was a moment of pure, disorienting darkness. He didn’t know what had caused him to wake, he didn’t know what time it was, he didn’t even know where he was, for a second.

Then he heard something rustle at the other side of the room. Jackson was back. And judging from the noises, he was tossing from side to side instead of sleeping like he was supposed to.

There was no moonlight lighting his way this time as there had been dark clouds like a blanket across the sky since morning, but Mark didn’t need it. He couldn’t say exactly when he had decided to get out of his bed, but a second later he was crossing the room to Jackson’s bed. “Jackson?” he asked, softly, worrying that he had misinterpreted the noise and the other was actually sleeping, uneasily, but sleeping all the same.

The rustling stilled for a second before Jackson turned for a last time. “Mark?” he answered. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” the older rapper replied, honesty shining through in his voice. “You alright?”

“Fine.” There was a little pause when Jackson hesitated.  “I just have a little trouble sleeping,” he added, voice hardly louder than a breath.

Mark blinked in the darkness, not sure what to do. He’d never been that good with words. Finally, he gave himself a mental shove, sitting down on the edge of Jackson’s bed. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“I think I messed up during an interview today,” Jackson mumbled. “I was just _so freaking tired_. I can’t even remember all that I’ve said, but it probably was less than brilliant.”

“So tired that you can’t sleep now, huh?” Mark teased, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m sure it was fine. Honestly, people love you whatever you do. Even if you’re just spouting nonsense. They call it adorable.”

“Well,” Jackson yawned, “I’ve been trying to get away from the image of the bigmouthed idiot. I’d hate for that to go to waste because I’m too tired to keep my thoughts together. And now I’ll be even worse off tomorrow because I can’t get my head to shut up.”

Mark certainly knew what that felt like. “Let me in?” he asked before his mind could control the stupid ideas his mouth decided to voice.

Jackson stopped mid-yawn. “Huh?”

Mark shrugged, unseen in the dark. Oh well. Whatever. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose. “You remember last week when I couldn’t sleep and woke you up by creeping around in front of your bed? You practically forced me to get into your bed. It helped me. Maybe it’ll help you as well.”

“Force you, did I, really?” Jackson’s voice was dry.

Mark grinned which was, again, lost in the dark, but Jackson could probably hear it in his voice. “You were very convincing. Scary, actually.”

“Is that so?” The inflection did not ask for an answer, so Mark didn’t give one.

Again, silence filled the room, so long that Mark almost started to fidget. He grabbed onto Jackson’s blanket to keep his fingers still, imagining the other lying in the darkness with a frown on his face, trying to figure out how to answer that weird request. Damn the darkness. If there had been even a little light in the room, he might have been able to read Jackson’s facial expression. No such luck, though.

“Fine. Whatever.”

The answer made Mark let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. If Jackson had rejected him, that would have caused more awkwardness than Mark liked to have in his life.

Jackson lifted his blanket, mirroring the events of last week. Mark could feel it, even if he could not see it in the dark, and it made the hair on his arms stand up. “Get in.”

This time, Mark did not have to be told twice. Honestly, by now he was so tired that he could have fallen asleep sitting on the edge of Jackson’s bed. Lying next to him under the warm blankets was much preferable to that.

He didn’t hesitate either to slide closer to Jackson, putting his arms around the younger’s body.

The other rapper didn’t seem to have expected that, as Mark could hear a sharp intake of breath from him and he could actually feel Jackson’s muscles tensing under his hands, but he didn’t protest it, either. After a few moments, Mark could feel Jackson relaxing in his arms, and another few seconds later, there was an arm reaching around him, coming to rest at his waist.

The oldest band member couldn’t keep the smile from spreading on his face and he didn’t try very hard, either. For the first time he was thankful for the pitch-black darkness surrounding him, hiding his stupidly happy face from Jackson.

“Just relax,” he whispered, repeating Jackson’s words from last week, while trying to keep the smile from his voice. “Sleep.”

He felt Jackson exhale, inches from his face, disturbing the hair on his neck, almost making him shiver. “You’re an idiot.”

Mark snorted, amused. “You’re one to talk.”

When he leaned his head forward, just an inch or two, until their foreheads were touching, that was pretty damn close to his memory, and about a thousand times better.

 

Mark was the first of the two to open his eyes, though that didn’t come as a big surprise. It was already light outside, the light coming through the curtains dim and filtered, hinting at the clouds outside.

Mark did not mind being the first one awake, either. At least, like this he got some time with Jackson before he was up and away again, even if he was not, well, particularly talkative. And maybe it gave him an opportunity to sort through the confusing jumble of ‘why’s’ and ‘maybe’s’ that made up the biggest part of his thoughts and feelings about Jackson right now. That would have been the smart way to spend the time until Jackson woke up.

Instead, his gaze ghosted over the sleeping boy’s face, noticing the dark roots that were beginning to show beneath the platinum blond and the way the longer strands fell over Jackson’s forehead and nose, softly moving with every breath.

He was also perfectly aware of the arm that still rested at his waist, warm fingers barely touching his back, and of the way Jackson’s chest moved beneath his own hands, muscles tensing and relaxing in a slow, steady rhythm.

Maybe, Mark mused, he didn’t even have to figure out how he felt about his friend. What use would it have? It wouldn’t change anything for the better, only bring potential complications. And he felt quite happy like this, lying here, knowing he had helped Jackson sleep despite the worries that had previously kept him awake. If it could kindly stay like this, Mark would be just fine. It wasn’t like he wanted a relationship with his best friend, really.

Something about that thought made Mark pause. They had this dating rule in their contracts which would make a relationship impossible even if he did want one – provided that Jackson wanted one as well, of course. Due to dating being a non-issue for the next several years, they had never really talked about what they looked for in a person, or even whether they felt attracted to girls, boys, or both, though they all had answers for the all too popular question about their ideal type of girl. That wasn’t hard to answer. She was pretty, smart, either tall or short, and then something to make it special – she had a wide smile, soft hands, a cute nose, something like that. It didn’t matter what they said, really, since nothing was going to happen in the near future, and even if there was one of their fans that was the exact image they described – they’d probably never meet her, and even then, you didn’t just magically fall for someone because they were your type. You fell for their personality. And it wasn’t like Mark was attracted to Jackson because of his muscles, or his eyes, or his gender – he was attracted to Jackson because he was Jackson.

 

Jackson mumbled something in his sleep, followed by a sigh that made the hair on Mark’s arms stand up, effectively jerking him out of his thoughts. At some point in the last few minutes, his gaze had focused on the nearly translucent skin beneath Jackson’s eyes and the tiny, dark veins running through that skin, partly obscured by black lashes.

Mark sighed, closing his eyes. With the way he had been staring at Jackson at every opportunity lately, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he did have feelings for his best friend. As much as he wanted to keep pretending that he didn’t know it for sure for the sake of keeping his life simple, he had actually already accepted it, though it had taken him months to notice it in the first place.

That only left him wondering – what did Jackson think about him?

When Mark opened his eyes again, there was a pair of almost black eyes staring right back at him. He blinked. The intensity of that gaze was enough to almost make him shiver.

“You’re awake,” Jackson stated the obvious, deep voice still rough from sleep.

“I am,” Mark confirmed, still slightly shaken up.

Neither of them moved, and after a while Mark started to drift off into his thoughts again, losing himself in the lines and contrasts of Jackson’s face.

“You still do that,” Jackson said, a small, not really amused smile on his lips.

Mark blinked again, confusion clearly visible in his eyes. “Do what?”

“Pretending to be here when you’re not? Looking like you’re right in front of me, when your thoughts are actually somewhere far away? It’s like you don’t even notice I’m here. It has always been like that. Makes a person feel invisible, you know?”

“I, uh, I’m sorry?” The uncertainty made Mark’s voice waver slightly. He did that? Not on purpose – he hadn’t even noticed. And, honestly – at least this time, his thoughts had been right here. Jackson was all he had been noticing.

Jackson sighed, finally releasing his hold on Mark, sitting up. “It’s fine,” he mumbled, pushing his almost white hair out of his eyes. “I’m used to it.”


	3. Third Night

Mark pushed himself up until he was resting on his elbows instead of awkwardly lying there, looking up at the younger rapper who was openly yawning by now, and suddenly, he couldn’t control his mouth anymore. Not the first time that had happened, though. The words were out before he could think about them. “Jackson, what do you think about me?”

The platinum blond boy halted in his stretching, gaze snapping to Mark’s. “Huh?” he asked eloquently, confusion plain on his face.

Mark felt heat rise to his cheeks as he sat up. He should really learn to control his tongue. The older shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “I was just wondering what you think about me, you know, as a person, as a friend?”

Jackson kept staring at him as if he was trying to figure out whether Mark was making fun of him. The longer the silence stretched, the more uncomfortable Mark felt. What was so hard to answer about that question, anyway? They were friends, family even, had been for years. He could at least tell him that he was a great guy or something.

Finally Mark broke eye contact, slipping his legs out from under the sheets. “Forget it, you don’t have to answer that question. It was weird. Sorry.”

That seemed to shake Jackson from his stupor as well. “Yeah, it was. You’re weird. That’s what I think about you.” He flashed Mark a small grin, for a second, barely visible before it disappeared again, but it warmed Marks heart, making it beat almost painfully hard in his chest, even though the words had been far from flattering.

With a few seconds of delay, Mark rolled his eyes at the younger. It was not like Jackson had a right to say that. He was pretty much the weirdest of the bunch. However, instead of saying that, Mark just made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat, turning away to get out of Jackson’s bed and to the bathroom, to get a little time to himself and maybe replay that tiny smile a few (thousand) times in his head.

He didn’t get far before Jackson stopped him yet again. “Mark,” he called out when the older boy had barely taken two steps. “I’m sorry about waking you up last night, really. And thank you for offering to stay with me. I know you’re not that fond of physical contact, not over a long period of time, anyway, and-“

“It’s not like that,” Mark answered, turning around, his head tilted to one side in an expression of curiosity.

Jackson blinked up at him, obviously losing the thread of what he had wanted to say, making Mark grin at him. “What is not like… what?” he asked, the picture of pure confusion.

Mark shrugged. “I don’t mind skinship. Not with you, at least. Or with the other members.” He said the last part almost like an afterthought. It was true, though. The seven of them were so close, there was nothing awkward about them touching, hugging, putting hands on the others’ legs, things Mark would have never even thought about a few years ago. “And I don’t mind cuddling with you if it helps you sleep,” Mark added, wondering if he was going too far. He was not used to having to think about what he said to Jackson, taking care not to reveal too much.

Jackson still looked very much taken by surprise. “Well… Thanks, I guess,” he said, making it almost sound like a question. “I hope I won’t have to take you up on that, but thanks, anyway.”

Mark offered the younger a sweet smile instead of a vocal response. What was he supposed to answer to that, anyway? Please wake me up to cuddle as often as you can? Not likely.

Silence filled the room, leaving the two boys staring at one another. After only a few moments, the only thing Mark could think about was the way Jackson’s almost white hair seemed to glow in the morning light, how adorable he looked, still mussed from sleep and all confused.

He flinched when someone knocked on the door. “Mark, Jackson?” That was Jinyoung’s voice. “You need to get ready, are you guys up?”

“Yeah,” Mark answered, abruptly turning away from Jackson. He really needed to work on his concentration issues. For a second, he imagined himself getting lost in staring at Jackson’s hair on a live broadcast before shoving that thought away as fast as he could, barely able to suppress a shiver. That would be… unpleasant, to say the least.

 

The next two weeks seemed to last forever, at least for Mark they did. Their schedules didn’t ease up in the least, and the days full of promoting, training, fan meetings, and filming had Mark collapsing into bed late at night. He couldn’t even imagine how Jackson was dealing with all his additional commitments. More than once, Mark found himself doing the dishes even if it should have been Jackson’s turn because the boy wasn’t even there for the meals. At least his manager seemed to be making sure Jackson was eating enough, though that didn’t help with the exhaustion that became more obvious with every passing day. Still, Jackson had stayed true to his intention of not disturbing Mark at night. Even when he had come home when Mark was already sleeping, he had taken care not to wake the other.

To Mark, it didn’t look like Jackson slept at all, and more than once he wondered if Jackson was overdoing it with his schedule. Sure, all that Jackson did helped the band, won them fans, raised their popularity, but there were limits. He didn’t dare say anything, however, not after Jackson had snapped at JB when he had suggested that Jackson maybe should decline a few of his jobs, or skip a practice or two. Mark could take a few of his lines if he had a hard time coping, JB had suggested. Mark had never seen Jackson so angry in his life. No matter how Jackson appeared to the public, he was actually pretty sweet-tempered, rarely acting up, always working hard and focused. They all left the matter alone after that, just silently dividing Jackson’s chores between the six of them, with Mark taking over the most.

When he wasn’t busy worrying about Jackson or trying to not stare at him, Mark was wondering whether he should tell someone about his problem. His feelings. Whatever you want to call it. Not Jackson, of course, he had enough on his plate on his plate already, without having to deal with Mark’s feelings. Plus, Mark didn’t want to burden their friendship. That was sure to mess up their group dynamics even more. JB, maybe, he was their leader, the closest to Mark in age, and was supposed to be the mature one, wasn’t he? Or Junior, who they all agreed was their dorm mother, he was a great listener and way too perceptive anyway. It wouldn’t take long for him to notice something was off.

But he didn’t dare to. Admitting it out loud would make it real in a way that thinking about it never did, and he was pretty sure that Jaebum and Jinyoung would push him to do something about it. Something like telling Jackson. And there was no way Mark was ready for that.

 

Mark was jerked from his sleep when he felt his mattress sinking in next to him in an unfamiliar way. They had to get up at 5 a.m. the next day and were all trying to catch a few hours of sleep. Mark had given up on waiting up for Jackson at 12:30. It seemed that the boy had finally gotten home, though, judging from the silver blond hair resting on the pillow next to Mark’s head.

“Gaga?” he asked softly, raising one hand to touch the younger boy’s shoulder lightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jackson mumbled, his face burrowed into Mark’s pillow. “Just exhausted. I’m sorry I woke you up – again – I just… I missed you.”

Mark’s heart contracted, skipping a few beats, before resuming to beat at probably double the pace. It actually made him feel lightheaded. “Don’t apologize,” Mark answered, trying hard to keep his voice from choking up. “I told you, you can wake me anytime. Having trouble sleeping again?”

“Just got home,” Jackson replied, voice heavy with fatigue.

Mark only then noticed the other rapper was still wearing his street clothes. “Fuck, Jackson, what time is it?”

“Dunno… 3 a.m.? Maybe later? I honestly don’t care anymore.”

“You’re going to kill yourself at one point if you keep this up,” Mark murmured, his hand moving up to gently massage Jackson’s neck. The younger didn’t react, and Mark didn’t dare to persist on the topic. Instead, he lightly slapped at the back of Jackson’s head. “Hey, if you want to sleep in my bed, at least get rid of your jacket and get in under the blankets. It’s kind of uncomfortable like this.”

It took a few seconds before Jackson groaned and forced himself up to follow Mark’s orders. The soft moonlight seeping in through their window illuminated his face enough to show that he was practically sleeping while shrugging of his jacket. The silver light bleached all color from the scene, making Jackson’s hair and skin look pure white, his lashes and the shadows on his face almost black.

Mark mentally pinched himself before managing to tear his gaze away from the sight, moving closer to the wall to make room for Jackson in his bed. Jackson. In his bed.

The older rapper closed his eyes, turning his face into his pillow to hide the blush creeping up on his cheeks. He didn’t quite know why it made a difference to him that they were in his bed instead of Jackson’s this time, but it did. Maybe it was because Jackson had actually come to him this time. Either way, it made the situation feel a lot more intimate for some reason.

“Sorry,” Jackson murmured again when he finally slipped under Mark’s covers, pulling the older into an embrace as it was becoming a habit lately. “I know you’re probably exhausted. You deserve your sleep.”

“So do you,” Mark answered distractedly, breathing in Jackson’s scent as he willingly moved closer into the embrace. The younger smelled like soap and streets at night and Jackson.

Jackson made a noncommittal noise, pulling Mark even closer, already nearly asleep when his face came to rest at the crook of Mark’s neck, distracting the older rapper like nothing else when Jackson’s breath blew across the sensitive skin.

Still, Mark knew something was wrong. Jackson wouldn’t have come to him otherwise. He tried to remember what had been on Jackson’s schedule today but he had lost track a long time ago. He did make a mental note to check up on that later, though. If some ignorant asshole MC had upset Jackson, they would get hell for that, Mark would make sure of it.

People always seemed to assume from the way Jackson joked around and laughed things off that he didn’t care what people said to him or, even worse, that he was simply too stupid to realize he was being insulted. Mark had never understood how people got to that conclusion. Jackson spoke four languages proficiently and bits and pieces of at least three more. The boy was a freaking genius.

In any case, they couldn’t be more wrong. Just because Jackson didn’t show he was upset didn’t mean that he didn’t get hurt. He just kept that hurt close to his heart rather than cause a scene. Jackson was one of the most soft-hearted people Mark knew, and while he made new friends easily and regularly, he didn’t open up about his true feelings often.

Mark unconsciously tightened his grip on Jackson, causing the younger to mumble something in his sleep.

Seeing Jackson hurt always made the older rapper want to step up and protect him. He didn’t, though, because he knew if he started, he would be yelling at the other person by the end of it, and there was no way he would get away with that. Jackson would probably be pissed at him as well if he tried something like that. So he controlled himself, laughing along with the others, and tried to cheer Jackson up in subtle ways when they were done filming, by getting him his favorite drink or teasing Bambam together. Today, for whatever had upset Jackson, he hadn’t been there. Mark’s heart clenched at the thought. Whenever Jackson was on a solo job, he had to deal with this shit on his own. Mark couldn’t help feeling guilty about that even though he knew, technically, that it wasn’t his fault and that he couldn’t have done anything about it.

The rapper sighed softly, finally closing his eyes again, in the hope of getting at least another hour of sleep before they had to get out of bed. However, he had a hard time calming his head enough to even give falling asleep a try. His worry for Jackson was most prominent on his mind, but then there were the little things about their situation that made it simply impossible to focus. The feeling of Jackson’s breath against his throat, his hair on his skin, his scent in the air all around him. The memory of Jackson saying “I missed you” still sounding in his ear.

At some point, Mark resolved to simply lie here and enjoy the moment as long as it lasted, listening to Jackson’s steady heartbeat. With that decision, he finally calmed down enough to fall asleep.

 

When the alarm on Mark’s smartphone went off, Jackson was up and out of his bed before Mark had even managed to open his eyes enough to turn the alarm off. He was still wearing the clothes he had come home in last night, stretching and yawning like a cat after a nap.

Mark sat up, blinking sleepily, his hair sticking up in all directions, wondering how Jackson could seem so freaking awake at this time of the day. “Hey, are you…” He yawned. “…okay? I can shower first if you want to sleep a few more minutes. I’ll come and wake you up later.”

Jackson finished with a particularly cat-like stretch, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m fine. Give me some coffee and food and I’ll breeze through the day.” He gave Mark a cheeky grin and a wink. “I still look better than you, anyway.”

Mark bit his lip, looking down at his smartphone in an attempt to avoid staring. He wasn’t going to protest that last statement.

Jackson seemed to misunderstand his silence, though, because he leaned down until his face was directly in front of Mark’s. “I’m serious,” he said softly. “I’m fine. Stop worrying so much about me.” Then a slight smirk returned to his face, though there was a trace of something else in his eyes that Mark didn’t quite know what to make of. “Thanks for the cuddling session, by the way. You make a great teddy bear.”

The older rapper rolled his eyes at him, trying and failing to keep himself from blushing. “You seem to be in a good mood considering the fact that you only had like an hour of sleep,” he observed, trying to distract himself and Jackson from the heat in his cheeks.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Jackson replied, straightening up and rolling his shoulders before turning to rummage through his closet. “Did you know I have the whole evening off tomorrow? I can just catch up on sleep then. That’s a good enough reason to be in a good mood as far as I’m concerned.”

Mark just sat on his bed and watched the other boy, listened to him talk more and more animatedly than he had heard him do for weeks, completely ignoring the fact that they were on a tight schedule and he should be getting up to take a shower. It was nice seeing Jackson energetic again, especially after he had been so exhausted barely two hours ago.  He’d missed the younger’s incessant babbling.

Mark blinked and flinched when he suddenly realized that Jackson’s face was directly in front of his own – again. He seriously had to work on his concentration issues. How had he gotten so lost in watching Jackson that he hadn’t even noticed the other moving towards him? And now there he was, only a few inches separating the two of them. Almost black eyes stared into his. Mark had to suppress the urge to hold his breath.

“You know,” Jackson said in a voice as serious as he could muster, “If you’re going to keep staring at me like that, you might as well just confess, don’t you think?”

Mark stared at the platinum blond rapper, stunned. All air seemed to have left his lungs and try as he might, he didn’t seem to be able to suck any in. Though maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. He had been pretty obvious, after all. It had only been a matter of time before Jackson figured him out. As he had always said, the other wasn’t stupid.

Jackson managed to keep his serious expression for all of five seconds before bursting out laughing. “Sheesh, no need to look so scared. I’m just kidding, I know you don’t see me that way. That was a pretty funny face, though.” He moved away from Mark, still giggling like a little kid. “I’m going to shower first. Your fault for staying in bed for so long.”

When Jackson had left the room, Mark was still sitting on his bed, speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love so far!  
> Feedback is always appreciated!  
> One chapter and bonus left...


	4. Daylight

They weren’t alone together for even a second during the rest of the day. Jackson behaved like usual, not a word or glance out of place.

Mark on the other hand kept sneaking looks at the younger, unable to help himself. He had a hell of a time focusing and kept losing his concentration, even earning him an annoyed and kind of worried comment from Jaebum. He tried to pull himself together after that, but his thoughts kept returning to the few seconds from this morning when he had actually thought that Jackson _knew_.

He had been in complete shock after that. It had taken him ages to get out of bed, pick clean clothes from his closet and then go to take his shower. As a result, he hadn’t had time for breakfast and was starving by the time they neared lunch.

When Jackson had said that… Mark had felt like he had been pushed over some cliff, falling at incredible speed towards the rocky sea beneath. Jackson revealing it to be a joke had slammed him back on the ground halfway down the cliff and it had left him scared, breathless and wondering.

Jackson had looked absolutely serious and not a bit offended or even revolted. He had looked like he wouldn’t have minded even if Mark had suddenly decided to confess. Of course, he hadn’t actually been serious, but still…

The more time passed with Mark very much unable to think about anything else, the more he found himself actually wanting Jackson to know. He wanted Jackson to know and to accept it and look at him like there was nothing wrong with the way he felt. Like it didn’t change the fact that they were best friends. Like they could just continue on the way it had been last year.

However, just because he wished for it didn’t mean it would actually play out like that. He really, really didn’t want this to ruin their friendship.  Plus, there was no way it wouldn’t have a negative impact on their performance as a group if it turned out that Jackson had a problem with the way Mark felt about him, or even if there only was a lingering awkwardness between them. Sure, they were professional and could act in front of the camera, but one of their biggest assets was that they usually didn’t have to. They didn’t have to pretend that they all loved each other like family, because they did, and their fans could feel it. They would be sure to notice if Mark and Jackson started to avoid each other, no matter how discreet they would try to be about it.

Damn it. How had he gone from being perfectly content with no one ever noticing his feelings for Jackson to debating whether or not to tell the person in question about them in just a few hours?

 

During the next twenty-four hours, there was not a second when those thoughts weren’t on his mind. When they were training, eating, performing, sleeping, giving interviews, in the shower, in the car, backstage when they were supposed to concentrate on their performance. Jackson was always there, in his thoughts, in his head.

He had slept in his own bed again the next night with Mark lying in the dark on the other side of the room, staring at what he believed to be the back of Jackson’s had. Again and again, the oldest rapper had imagined talking to him, just saying those three simple words – “I like you” – and alone the thought made his heart beat irregularly, his hands sweat, his mouth go dry. No, it probably wasn’t a good idea to tell him. Definitely not. It was a horrible idea. But Mark couldn’t help wanting to.

 

Jackson was in an incredibly good mood the day after, almost back to his hyper self from a few months ago. Watching him brought a smile to Mark’s face. Jackson really deserved that evening off, and Mark was going to make sure that he got to enjoy it. How, he didn’t quite know yet, since he didn’t know what Jackson wanted to do with his free time, but they could figure that out when Jackson came back from his last appointment of the day.

The rest of the band members were already finished with their schedule, so they were all just hanging out in the living room, having decided to wait for Jackson to make dinner together.

Therefore, when Jackson stormed into the dorm, only muttering a barely intelligible greeting before disappearing into his and Mark’s room, slamming the door behind him, they were all left staring and speechless.

After a few moments of silence, Mark got up from the couch he had been lying on. “Uhm, I’m going to try to talk to him,” he muttered, leaving the others in silence, heading towards their shared room. He stopped, standing in front of their door for a few seconds while worrying at his lower lip before he raised the courage to knock at the door.

“Jackson?” he asked quietly when he got no response from the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

It took a few seconds before he heard Jackson’s voice. “It’s your room, isn’t it?” Mark had a hard time interpreting his inflection, so he just opened the door, stepped inside and closed it behind him.

Jackson was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He made no move to acknowledge Mark’s presence, even though he had to have noticed him entering.

Mark got a sick feeling in his stomach, seeing the younger like that. It was obvious that something had happened on the last job. It made him want to hug Jackson and comfort him, but at the same time he wanted to punch the hell out of the person who had hurt him.

Needless to say, he did neither.

Mark took a few cautious steps forward, not quite daring to approach his friend all the way. “What happened?” he asked in a low voice.

Again, Jackson didn’t respond for a few moments. “Nothing much,” he sighed, finally. “Just someone being an ignorant asshole. I shouldn’t worry about it.” Suddenly, he was out of his bed and pacing along the room. “It’s just… My mum watches all my interviews, you know? And there I am, being insulted, and can’t even protest because of our image. And all the other people around me laugh about it.”

Mark stood there awkwardly, watching Jackson walk back and forth, wondering what to say to make him feel better. Wondering whether there was anything he _could_ say to make him feel better. “I’m sure she knows there’s nothing you can do,” he said at last. “That’s the way our business works, and I’m sure the MC will get called out for whatever he said. You know how fiercely our fans love you.” He wanted to leave it at that, waiting to see if his words had helped, but another sentence slipped out, almost without him noticing but making him hold his breath immediately after. “As do I.” Suddenly he felt like he was frozen in place, unblinkingly staring at the platinum blond boy in front of him, looking for a reaction.

Jackson, however, didn’t seem to have heard him. “I _know_ ,” he replied, ruffling his hair, obviously frustrated. Not just frustrated, angry. “But that doesn’t change the way I feel about it.”

Mark sighed, silently accepting the fact that Jackson had just completely ignored his confession. Instead he stepped closer, since the younger rapper had finally stopped moving, and placed a hand in his neck, gently massaging it.

Jackson was looking at the ground, forcing Mark to tilt his head a bit to meet his gaze. “People are idiots,” he said softly. “I know that doesn’t help you one bit. I don’t even want to know what was said or who said it because then I’d have to go and kill them myself, but know that we’re always here for you and there are thousands of people who are on your side.”

Jackson sighed deeply and the tension seemed to slowly leave his body. Now he just looked defeated.

Mark swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. He absolutely, unconditionally hated seeing Jackson like this. Jackson wasn’t supposed to have this look on his face. It made Mark’s heart hurt, and it made him want to distract Jackson, no matter the cost.

“You know,” he said quietly. “I just told you I love you, and I don’t think you have noticed.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jackson didn’t sound like he had really heard him, still caught up in his own thoughts. “I love you, too, man. And all our fans. I know.”

The older rapper frowned, letting go of Jackson’s neck and taking a step back. “You’re not listening,” he insisted. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about being in love with you, Jackson.”

That definitely got Jackson’s attention. He raised his head, eyes wide, staring at Mark like he was seeing him for the first time.

Mark tried to breathe steadily, though it seemed like there was no oxygen in the air around him. He felt light-headed. His mouth was dry as the desert and he could feel a slight tremor starting in the tips of his fingers while he waited for Jackson to say something instead of scrutinizing him as if he were a criminal. Swallowing nervously, Mark took another step back.

Jackson tilted his head to one side. “You’re looking at me like you’re scared to death,” he stated, his inflection expressing curiosity.

Mark frowned at the boy in front of him, feeling a weird mixture of nervousness, excitement, and pure, unfiltered dread. What if this went incredibly, horribly wrong? “Well, yeah, I just told my best friend I have feelings for him. Of course I’m afraid of what you think about me now.”

Jackson stared at the older rapper like he had spontaneously grown a second head. “You’re not serious.”

Said older couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt by now, only adding to the tight knot of emotions inside of him. “Yes, I’m serious. Do you know how long I thought about whether I should tell you about this?” Even though that hadn’t mattered in the end as he had made that decision in the spur of the moment. “I’m scared that it’s going to affect our friendship, or even worse, that you’re going to be disgusted-“

In that exact moment, Mark could watch his best friend suddenly double over in helpless laughter. It would have made him smile if the situation wasn’t what it was. Jackson was laughing so hard Mark would have sworn he actually saw tears sparkling in the corners of Jackson’s eyes.

It made Mark’s stomach clench in a way that made him want to throw up. He tried to breathe through it, feeling nauseous. “Jackson, I know I just told you that I like you, but I’m still older than you, and you _laughing_ at my confession-“

“I’m not,” Jackson forced out through his laughter. “I’m not laughing at you. Well, I kind of am, but certainly not at your feelings. Actually, I’m laughing more at myself, and at the situation in general. This is ridiculous.”

Ridiculous? Mark’s frown deepened, as did the sick feeling in his stomach, but Jackson seemed to be working on getting himself under control, so he decided to wait for an explanation, even though he wanted nothing more than to turn away and leave, to deal with his confused feelings in peace.

When the younger rapper was finally able to talk again, he wiped the tears from his face, still shaking with occasional laughter. “And people tell me _I’m_ dense,” he mumbled, eyes sparkling with amusement. Amusement that Mark didn’t feel in the least.

“What exactly are you talking about?” Mark’s voice was only slightly uneven, an impressive feat considering the chaos he was hiding inside.

Jackson shook his head. “Mark, I thought you _knew_. God knows I’ve been obvious enough. And you have always been extremely good at reading me.”

“I have?” Mark asked, surprised. He had never even once thought that.

The platinum blond boy nodded, smiling. “You think I haven’t noticed that? Stuff like you always stealing the bits of my food I don’t like even though I have never told anyone about that because you just know? Or the way you’ve been trying to take care of me lately, taking over part of my chores, because my schedule has been so full?”

Mark blinked. The food thing had become so much of a habit that he didn’t even think about it anymore. He’d been doing that for years, and he hadn’t known that Jackson had ever spared it a thought. “What’s that got to do with anything?” he asked, trying to refocus on the topic at hand.

Jackson shrugged. “I always assumed you had noticed my feelings for you the same way you notice everything else. So when you didn’t show me any signs after more than a year, I backed off. It was obvious enough to anyone else who paid any attention. I’m pretty sure some of the other members know, and I certainly haven’t told anyone.”

Mark just stared. He had a dim feeling he was missing an important realization but he was so confused that he couldn’t think it through.

Jackson took a step closer to him, uncertainly raising a hand as if he meant to touch Mark’s cheek but didn’t quite dare to. His mouth was slightly open, pale pink lips parted, and for some reason that was what Mark’s mind chose to focus on. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

“Jackson,” he whispered, needing clarity. “What exactly are you saying?”

Jackson gave him the most breathtaking smile. It lit up his whole face and hit Mark like a train at full speed.

“I’m in love with you, Mark,” he answered softly. “And I can’t believe I have to tell you this. I’m in love with you.”

Mark was completely stunned. He could barely remember how to breathe and was glad that the heart in his chest beat on its own or he probably would have forgotten to make it beat as well. He had never, never even in his dreams expected that Jackson might feel this way about him. Hell, he had spent so much time thinking and worrying about his own feelings that, after that second morning, he had never wasted a moment thinking about whether Jackson might actually return them. In his mind, his feelings had always been an obstacle to be overcome so that they could continue with everything the way it had been before.

Seeing Mark so completely speechless seemed to give Jackson the courage to close the remaining space between them, brushing his knuckles against Mark’s cheek before settling his hand in the other’s neck, burying his fingers in the soft, short hair at the back of Mark’s head, and leaning their foreheads against each other.

It took a few moments for Mark to finally wake up from his trance, his fingers twitching, transforming his seemingly frozen body back into a living, breathing human being.

Jackson hadn’t moved an inch, patiently waiting for Mark to return to the present and say something.

When he did, it was less than impressive. “You… Really?” He still sounded stunned.

Jackson cracked a smile, his fingers caressing Mark’s neck gently. “Yeah.”

Slowly, at first no more than a shadow, a smile appeared on the older boy’s face. Later, Jackson would swear he had actually seen Mark’s eyes start to glow, his smile full of incredulous wonder when he fully realized what was happening. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he breathed.

Jackson shrugged, just enjoying being this close to the other, finally being allowed to touch what he had imagined for so long. “I’m not as brave as you,” he replied easily. “I wasn’t going to confess just to be rejected and as I said, I thought you knew about my feelings anyway. I figured saying it out loud would only burden our relationship, and I didn’t want that. So instead I tried to stay away for a bit, as long as it took. You made that pretty damn difficult in the last few weeks, though.”

Mark laughed, a light, breathy sound. “So you’re a coward, is that what you’re saying?”

“No,” Jackson answered, voice hurt, before reconsidering. “Well, maybe. But only when it comes to you.”

Mark blushed a deep pink.

Jackson grinned and winked at him cheekily. “Good thing you’re so brave.”

“You’re an idiot,” Mark mumbled.

Jackson didn’t seem bothered by that observation. Instead he looked into Mark’s eyes, his gaze growing heavy-lidded. His voice seemed to have dropped several notes when he said, “I really, _really_ want to kiss you right now. Can I?”

Mark’s breath caught in the back of his throat and he shuddered. Suddenly, he was hyper aware of the fact that there were only inches separating their lips. Jackson’s fingers in his neck made goose bumps run down his arm, his forehead felt hot against his own. Jackson’s presence was nearly overwhelming, and the things it did to Mark’s body were certainly not healthy.

“Can I?” the younger repeated very softly.

Mark swallowed nervously. Another moment of silence passed, their breaths the only noise to be heard. “Yeah,” he breathed at last.

Jackson only had to change the angle of his head marginally before he closed the space between them, touching his lips to those of the older rapper. His eyes closed at the contact.

The blonde’s lips felt warm and soft on Mark’s, the contact sending a thousand tingling sensations through his body. They fit together perfectly, like they had been made for each other.

Mark forgot how to breathe.

By the time Jackson pulled back, Mark was feeling dizzy. Whether that came from a lack of oxygen or from other causes, he did not know.

He watched Jackson’s eyes flutter open, reminding him of the morning when he had realized he might have feelings for the other.

“Again,” Jackson whispered, tilting his head a bit more before pressing forward again.

This time, Mark responded with a bit of pressure of his own. The feeling was electrifying, exhilarating. Without a conscious thought, Mark reached out and wrapped his arms around Jackson’s body, pulling the other closer, molding their bodies against each other.

Jackson made a low noise at the back of his throat that made shivers run down Mark’s spine. But then, suddenly, the older boy pulled back. “Wait, stop,” he managed to say, breathing heavily.

Jackson’s eyelids were only half open, his cheeks flushed. “What?”

“Jackson, what are we doing?” Mark wanted to know.

“We’re kissing,” Jackson stated the obvious and looked very much inclined to continue with said activity.

Mark rolled his eyes at the other. “I know that, smartass. But this… maybe we shouldn’t.”

Jackson’s eyes popped open, staring at the rapper in front of him. “What?” he repeated.

“I just don’t think this is wise,” Mark mumbled, trying to ignore how much his own words hurt him, made him feel sick to the stomach and his heart clench. “When I told you about my feelings, I never thought it would come to this. Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Jackson blinked before narrowing his eyes at the older. “Wait, what? You just confessed to me, then smiled at me as brightly as the freaking sun when you finally got through your thick skull that _I like you_ , then we kissed, and now you’re telling me we should just forget about it?” He didn’t sound pleased. At all.

Mark took a step back, biting at his lower lip, and Jackson let his hand fall from Mark’s neck. “I… I just… I don’t know, Jackson. It’s not like we could have an actual relationship or anything. It’s in our _contracts_ , for god’s sake. If anything got out… It would hurt our image so much. We can’t do that to the others.” His heart hurt thinking about that, about the way the public would react, but just as much, if not more, thinking about not being with Jackson, now that he had the chance.

Jackson was still glaring at the older, a pout he probably wasn’t even aware of on his lips. He looked positively adorable, but at the same time like he was working himself up to an impressive and probably rather loud rant, so Mark cut in before the younger could get started.

“What did you think would happen if it ever got to this?” he asked, gesturing between the two of them, standing a few steps apart in the middle of their dorm room.

“I was thinking about taking you and running away, the public be damned,” Jackson replied bluntly.

Mark blinked, his heart skipping a beat – or three – at the absolute certainty in Jackson’s voice. He opened his mouth, not knowing what he wanted to say.

Jackson smiled at Mark’s expression. “I know we won’t though,” he added. “We both care too much about the others, about GOT7, about our fans, about all of this.” He took a step towards the other rapper, raising one hand and placing it back on Mark’s neck because it felt so damn right to be able to do that. “But I won’t pretend that this conversation never happened. I can’t, and I won’t.”

His voice, deep and full of conviction, made shivers run down Mark’s spine. “I can’t either,” he admitted softly, his voice rough and nearly cracking. “And I don’t want to.”

“There, that’s all we need to know for now,” Jackson said, holding Mark’s gaze steadily. “We’ll just have to work it out. I know we can.”

Mark said nothing. He tried to imagine what that future would look like and came up empty.

“Tell me we can do it.” Jackson’s voice was nothing more than a murmur.

Mark let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. “We can work it out,” he whispered.

“Great,” Jackson breathed and closed the space between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the Jackson POV bonus left (x  
> I'm going to post that in a minute and then I'm done ~


	5. Bonus

Not for the first time in his life, Jackson wondered whether he was, in fact, an idiot.

He must be, he decided, since there wasn’t any sane reason to explain that night last week. Last week, when Mark had woken him up out of nowhere, Mark, who he was supposed to keep his distance from but instead had invited into his bed.

A smart person would have sent him back to his own bed. Or would have just slept through the whole thing, Mark would have gone back to sleep on his own at some point.

Therefore, Jackson must be an idiot.

At least he was pretty sure that he could blame part of it on Mark. Jackson was never rational when it came to the older rapper, and when the other had told him he wasn’t able to sleep because he was so worried about Jackson, and had looked all sleepy and ruffled and adorable while doing so, sitting on the cold floor, staring up at him with his big, dark eyes, Jackson couldn’t have been expected to react wisely, right? Right?

Right. The only problem was, that didn’t help his current situation one bit.

So, the two of them had spent the night in the same bed, snuggled up together – _because Mark had asked to hug him and how in the world could he have said no_ – and now Jackson had to deal with the aftermath.

It had been a few months since Jackson had decided it would be the best if he tried to distance himself from Mark, to give himself a chance to get over his feelings. His sad, unrequited feelings for his team member, his roommate, his best friend.

Jackson couldn’t remember when exactly he had fallen for Mark. It had been quite a while. Around the time they debuted? Even before that? He didn’t know, and didn’t care, either. He did know, however, that it was time to move on. Mark had never treated him badly, had never hurt him, had never led him on, but it wasn’t healthy to hold on to feelings like that when they weren’t returned.

When Jackson had started to build up the space between them, reducing their time together bit by bit, Mark had let him. Jackson had interpreted that as a sign that he was doing the right thing. Mark wanted him to get over it as well, so they could go back to their simple, uncomplicated friendship.

Of course, Jackson had never talked to Mark about what he was doing and why because he didn’t want to make their relationship awkward, but he didn’t have to. Mark knew. Mark always knew when it came to Jackson.

Yet, if that was the case, what in the world had that weird night been? _You’ve been distant lately, I was wondering if I had done something to drive you away?_ How was Jackson supposed to stay aloof when Mark said things that made it sound like he was hurt, and lonely, and missing Jackson?

The answer was, he couldn’t. He couldn’t, and that was why they had ended up cuddling, why he had experienced what it was like sleeping next to Mark, waking up with Mark wrapped in his arms.

That was why he was wasting precious time meant for sleeping, because he remembered what it had felt like to have Mark so close to him he could feel his body heat and fall asleep with Mark’s scent in the air all around him.

Jackson turned to the other side – again. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had gotten home, sneaking into the room as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t wake Mark, just to lie in his bed, unable to fall asleep, thinking about the boy who was so obnoxiously sleeping on the other side of the room. Yes, one could sleep obnoxiously, Mark was demonstrating it right that second.

With a silent sigh, Jackson turned to face the wall again, closing his eyes. Maybe going through the text of _If you do_ – the complete text, all parts, without melody – would help him fall asleep. If that didn’t help, he would try to recite from the fencing rule book in his head. He had always fallen asleep when he had been forced to read that. Three, two, one – Junior’s part. _If you do, it’s good, if I do, it’s…_

“Jackson?”

Jackson’s fingers, that had been tapping the rhythm of Jinyoung’s lines onto his blankets, stilled.

Assuming that he hadn’t turned full-out crazy yet, that had been Mark’s voice saying his name, if very softly.

He turned, opening his eyes, straining to see something in the complete darkness surrounding him. There, was that Mark’s silhouette?

“Mark?” Jackson’s voice was just as soft. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.” And he was. Just because he had just thought bitter things about Mark for being able to sleep so peacefully while he himself didn’t seem to be able to catch even a second of sleep didn’t mean he wanted Mark to end up just as sleep-deprived as he was.

“I don’t mind.” Mark’s voice was floating through the dark. Jackson imagined being able to feel it drift across his skin, that deep, velvety voice, and shivered. “You alright?”

Jackson bit his lower lip. No, he wasn’t alright. He hadn’t been for a long time. “Fine,” he replied quietly, then paused. There was no way Mark would be satisfied with that. “I just have a little trouble sleeping,” he forced himself to add, voice hardly louder than a breath.

There was a long pause, making Jackson wonder what the other was thinking. Actually, he wondered quite often what exactly was going on in Mark’s head, but he wasn’t going to ask the older rapper about it. 

He was just about to tell Mark to go back to sleep when he could feel his mattress sink in a bit. Jackson assumed that meant Mark had decided to sit down on the edge of his bed, and he could feel himself calm down a bit, as if Mark’s presence alone was enough to make him relax.

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked, voice mild, as if he hadn’t just been woken up by his idiotic roommate.

Well, yeah, about that. Good thing Jackson was good at making up bullshit. “I think I messed up during an interview today.” That wasn’t even so far from the truth. Jackson always felt like he was messing up in the important moments. “I was just _so freaking tired_. I can’t even remember all that I’ve said, but it probably was less than brilliant.”

“So tired that you can’t sleep now, huh?” Jackson could hear the teasing in Mark’s voice. Okay, maybe that hadn’t been the most convincing lie after all, but it didn’t seem like Mark suspected anything, as he added, “I’m sure it was fine. Honestly, people love you whatever you do. Even if you’re just spouting nonsense. They call it adorable.”

The younger could feel his heart skip a beat. Was that how the other saw him? He wouldn’t mind that. Closing his eyes, not that it made much of a difference in the dark, he could feel his weariness slowly catching up with him. He really needed every second of sleep he could get. If Mark could just stay and talk to him a few more minutes, maybe he’d be able to fall asleep then. “Well,” the Jackson yawned, “I’ve been trying to get away from the image of the bigmouthed idiot. I’d hate for that to go to waste because I’m too tired to keep my thoughts together. And now I’ll be even worse off tomorrow because I can’t get my head to shut up.” Because his thoughts were blabbering on and on about Mark’s hair, Mark’s voice, Mark’s everything. Stupid Mark.

Stupid Mark who apparently decided that was the right moment to make even stupider suggestions. “Let me in?” Mark asked.

Jackson stopped mid-yawn, his eyes popping open on their own accord. Still couldn’t see anything, though. “Huh?” he replied eloquently.

Mark obviously didn’t have problems with his eloquence. “You remember last week when I couldn’t sleep and woke you up by creeping around in front of your bed? You practically forced me to get into your bed. It helped me. Maybe it’ll help you as well.”

Jackson narrowed his eyes in Mark’s direction. Nice to know his kindness was being appreciated. “Force you, did I, really?” He didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. And yeah. He remembered. Dimly.

Stupid Mark.

“You were very convincing. Scary, actually.” Jackson was pretty sure he didn’t imagine the laughter that filled Mark’s voice. It made the corners of his own mouth twitch in response, though he forced the smile down the second it appeared.

“Is that so?” He made sure his voice expressed just how much he didn’t want an answer to that question, and Mark seemed to take the hint. Silence filled the room while Jackson tried to figure out what to do.

He should be smart. He should tell Mark thanks, but no thanks, go back to your own bed, go back to sleep, leave me alone with my problems. But this was _Mark_ asking to sleep in his freaking _bed_. There was no world in which Jackson would be smart in that situation.

The platinum blond boy was mentally cursing at himself when he voiced the one and only possible answer. “Fine. Whatever.” He was _so_ going to regret this. He knew he was. It wasn’t too late to tell stupid Mark to stay the hell away from him.

Instead, he scooted back, making room for Mark to get into his bed, and lifted the corner of his blanket. “Get in.”

It didn’t even take the other two seconds to follow the invitation, slipping in under Jackson’s blanket. The younger moved back a bit more. Maybe he could do damage control. He hadn’t agreed to be _touching_ , at least.

Mark wasn’t having any of that, though. Before the younger boy realized what was happening or actually had the time to protest, Mark had pulled him into a hug very similar to the one of last week.

Jackson tensed.

Mark’s body felt cool against his, he had been sitting out there in the cold for a few minutes after all, but obviously, that wasn’t the reason Jackson was currently as stiff as a wooden board.

Mark was a lot closer than Jackson wanted him to be. No, actually, that was a lie. Mark was exactly where Jackson wanted him to be.

But Jackson couldn’t have Mark, not like this, and getting bits and pieces, little glimpses of what _could be_ , wasn’t good. It wasn’t helping him, it wasn’t healthy, and it would end up doing what Mark had never done before. It would hurt Jackson.

So why wasn’t he pushing Mark away when he knew what was bound to happen? Why could he feel his body relaxing against Mark’s without having any influence on it? Why was he moving his arm, reaching around Mark, pulling him even closer, when he knew it would make it next to impossible to forget his feelings for the other?

Because Jackson was an idiot. That was why.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love this has received so far!  
> I'm happy about every comment, and I'll make sure to reply to you. :)


	6. Random bonus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh and then there was that. Almost forgot about that.

“So, I’m in love with Mark,” Jackson randomly announced the next time they all managed to have breakfast together.

Mark choked on his coffee and proceeded to thoroughly cough his lungs out.

Yugyeom’s head shot up. “What?” he demanded, making Jaebum casually reach over and smack him on the back of his head. “Ow!” the youngest complained. “What was that for?”

Bambam raised his head at the announcement, looking at Jackson blankly before refocusing on his cereals. Youngjae didn’t react at all.

Jinyoung gave Jackson a friendly smile while he lightly patted the still cough-racked Mark on his back. “Yeah, we know,” he said. (“We do?” Yugyeom chirped in, confused.) “But don’t you think a more private situation would have been more appropriate to confess?”

Jackson shrugged. “Mark knows. He feels the same way,” he replied lightly, watching everyone around him instantly freeze up – except Mark who exploded into a new fit of coughs, Jinyoung’s hand frozen on his back. All five of them were staring at Jackson when he gently took over Jinyoung’s ministrations on Mark.

For about five seconds, Mark’s coughing and Jackson’s soft murmur were the only thing to be heard in the dorm.

And then all hell broke loose.


End file.
